


Performance

by laisserais



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Just Dudes Being Dudes, M/M, playing a game of sex chicken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-24
Updated: 2007-09-24
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:17:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10850994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laisserais/pseuds/laisserais
Summary: Sometimes Dave and Chris fuck. Sometimes Chris and Jensen fuck. Dave doesn't much like Jensen. (Or: Just your standard, beer-and-pool, threeway-in-the-bathroom PWP.)





	Performance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatotherperv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatotherperv/gifts).



> Imported from LJ. Originally posted 9/24/07
> 
>  **betas** : the amazing [](http://apreludetoanend.livejournal.com/profile)[**apreludetoanend**](http://apreludetoanend.livejournal.com/) and [](http://yourlibrarian.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://yourlibrarian.livejournal.com/)**yourlibrarian** **Thank You**.
> 
>  **warnings** : slight spoilers for the film, _Hostel_ | abuse of the word 'fuck' | a lot of alpha male posturing | [Abe Vigoda](http://www.abevigoda.com/)
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I made all of this up. Dave and Jensen totally already know each other.
> 
>  **A/N** : For [](http://thatotherperv.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://thatotherperv.livejournal.com/)**thatotherperv** , on the occasion of her birthday. (and can we pretend that this is on time?) She wanted DB/JA/CK. I hope this is close to what you were thinking. *smish*

  


* * *

**Performance**

Kane says, "Ackles, you cockmunch, take your shot."

Jensen's leaning over the table, laughing. "Cockmunch?"

"That's right." Kane winks at Dave when he talks, so Dave smiles back. "Boy can't even suck dick right." Dave watches him saunter around the table and stage whisper to Jensen, "Mind you don't sink the eight ball now. That'd be the one with the _eight_ on it."

Jensen gives him the finger before lining up his shot again. Dave takes another sip of his beer.

Kid doesn't know shit about pool.

Cocksucking, though. That's one area where the kid _doesn't_ suck. Or at least, that's what Dave's heard. He watches Jensen bite his lip in concentration.

Yeah, he just bets that mouth is talented.

He clears his throat and turns to Chris. "Another round?"

"You're buying."

He waits for Jensen to miss sinking the fourteen before he says, "Ackles, what're you drinking?"

The kid stands up and stretches out his back. "Uh, I'll take another Heineken."

"Fucking piss water." Dave smiles when he says it. He heads over to the bar and he can hear Kane's victory shout from across the room.

Short game.

So Jensen's bad at playing pool and good at sucking cock. This much he knows. Kane thinks the kid’s a real down home kind of guy, and he's been after Dave for a while now to meet him.

Chris is like that. He's got to network people. He's got to share friends, introduce people he thinks would hit it off.

Dave leans on the bar as he orders the next round.

Until today he'd done pretty well at avoiding the meeting, but Jensen just landed a guest spot on _Bones_ , so Dave figured things might get tense if he put it off any longer.

Back when Kane first started talking about Jensen, Dave had thought he might be cool. He wasn't averse to meeting the guy.

But that was before Kane demonstrated an inability to shut the hell up about him.

_So Ackles is sitting there, getting a lapdance from this chick with tits out to here…_

_…Man, where were you last night? Me and Ackles found these bb guns and…_

_…You shoulda seen it. A table full of money and everyone's folded. Just me, this fucking asshole Welling and Jensen left…_

And so on. It's like they're suddenly attached at the hip or something. And every time Dave calls to make plans, Kane's busy.

It's not that he's jealous.

He's not. Really. He asked himself that question and came up with the answer that nowadays, what with the family and work, and Kane always out touring, finding time to hang out is getting harder.

And it’s okay. It's not a _thing_ or anything, but once in a while, it’d just be nice to kick back and hang out. And on the rare occasions they actually do, Kane's full of stories about how cool this Ackles kid is. That's all.

So it’s no big deal. It’s just that he's pretty much at a point now where even hearing Jensen's name makes his teeth grind.

*

Dave slaps a twenty on the bar and balances three beers in his hands as he heads back to the table. The gold dust twins are already there when he plunks the glasses down with an almighty splash.

Chris - Dave is surprised - pours on the accent like it's made out of tar when he's around Jensen.

Dave tries not to laugh.

Really, he tries. But it's funny. Kane playing a puffed up Southern Man for Jensen, and Jensen looking like he couldn't give a fuck. It's funny. And because of that, Dave thinks the guy might not be all bad—Kane may have grown up in the south, but he's probably the most California person that Dave has ever met.

When he slides into the booth, Jensen's leaning back and tapping the side of his glass, talking.

" _Shaun of the Dead_ is a way scarier movie, though, because it makes you laugh. It keeps you off balance and you're never sure where it's going to end up."

Kane looks absorbed in the debate, eyes locked on Jensen, and Dave smiles, already knowing what he's going to say in response.

"But _Hostel_ , man. Fuck." he's leaning toward Jensen. "Come on, you've got eyeballs dangling and torches to the face and fucking … _chainsaws_."

"Yeah, but it's not _real_ though, man. You're not scared for them. "

Dave rolls his eyes, tunes out the rest of the retarded argument. He's heard Kane on the subject of horror films a thousand times already and if Jensen's too dumb or too drunk to avoid the topic, then he deserves what he gets. And how the hell Kane can still get scared by a movie is a wonder.

Instead of listening, he watches. His acting coach is real keen on watching. Makes him and Emily go out, sometimes, and do nothing but sit and watch people. How they move. Gesture. How they get into each other's spaces when they talk.

Jensen and Chris are dancing.

At least, that's what Emily would call it, if she were here. She loves it when people do this. And they've gotten pretty good at it, too. In a two shot, where they've got to spend hours in the same frame. They can dance pretty well now.

It's weird to see it happening in real life, though. It's weird to see Kane doing it.

Chris sweeps a hand out from his chest emphatically, bringing it down hard on the table. Jensen smiles and shifts so that he's facing Chris. He leans an elbow on the table when he responds.

Dave wonders if they even care what they're talking about.

He wishes he had his notebook with him because some of this stuff is good. Kane's shaking his head like he can't wait for Ackles to quit talking. This is the kind of stuff that he could use for the show. This chemistry is what he needs to have with Emily.

But he hadn't expected to have to do homework today. Today was supposed to be about kicking back. Bullshitting with Kane and meeting the guy that's supposed to be God's gift.

Dave takes a sip of beer and looks around the bar.

It's a Saturday afternoon. Early, though, so neither of the televisions above the bar are showing anything good. One's on ESPN, doing a pre-game thing and the other's tuned to a rerun of _Barney Miller_.

The few other patrons in the place look like they've been there since the place opened. And not this morning.

Right below the T.V. showing ESPN is an old guy in a green plaid suit, giving him the stink eye.

He's a dead ringer for Abe Vigoda, actually, and Dave wonders whatever happened to that guy.

Now there's an actor who got typecast. Poor bastard.

The doppelganger is still giving him the hard look, so he shifts away, looks at his watch and realizes that there's still time before he's got to pick up Jaden from the nanny. He's got hours yet, and on an average day that would be nice.

On an average day he wouldn't be stuck in a booth that smells like piss and Budweiser, faking a smile and an interested look just because Christian Kane thinks some guy's ass was made for fucking.

Dave shifts his back against the unyielding wood of the booth and says, "Sure, _Shaun of the Dead_ might have its metaphors, but it's no _Devour_."

Both of them stop talking and stare at him.

Jensen turns to face him full on, one eyebrow cocked, and says, "You got me there. It's no _Devour_. But then again, it's no _Valentine_ , either."

Chris guffaws.

Jensen doesn't break eye contact with Dave as he takes a slug of beer and continues, "I guess you know what it's like, though, huh? Doing good work in shit projects. I've seen you. You know what you're doing." He chuckles and Dave can hear the clink of a ring against glass. "But hell. Guess you take what you can get."

Jensen stands up and nods at Chris before leaving the table.

Dave leans back and finishes off his beer. Kane's eyes are on him, and when he looks up, Chris starts to laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing, man. Just didn't know you had it in you."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Chris pantomimes fixing his hairdo as he sits up straight. Says in a mocking voice, "Why Mr. Boreanaz, I do believe you're jealous."

"Shut the fuck up. Kid thinks he's the next De Niro, he's got another think coming."

"That he might." Chris is looking past Dave. "He sure is pretty though."

Dave chuckles lightly. "Got a mouth on him."

Chris focuses back on him. "Not as pretty as yours. Don't you worry ’bout it."

He's smiling like the devil so Dave leans over the table to punch him in the shoulder. "That's right. And don't you forget it. Hey, I'm gonna take a piss. Get me another beer, will ya?"

Kane nods and Dave heads to the can.

This thing with Jensen. It feels like a game. It feels like chess and that pisses him off. If it's gonna be a game then Dave is going to make damn sure it's a game he can win.

*

Jensen's shaking himself off and zipping up when Dave opens the door. When he lifts his eyes to the mirror above the urinals, Jensen's staring at him.

Dave looks away first, scanning the footwells of the stalls. "Are we alone?"

"Just you, me and Jesus."

When Dave turns around, Jensen's leaning against the wall between the sink and the paper towel dispenser. He's smirking.

Dave does the crowding thing that he knows scares the shit out of people. Standing at his full height, arms loose at his sides when he gets right up in Jensen's face to say, "Lemme give you a little free advice."

Jensen leans his head back and crosses his arms.

"Don't go getting all hopped up just because you got a regular gig on some fourth rate network. Talent and looks'll only get you in the door. They're not gonna keep you in the game."

"I appreciate your concern."

Dave takes another step closer and watches with some satisfaction as Jensen's pupils dilate. "I think you enjoy pissing people off."

From this close up he can see Jensen's tongue as it pushes against his back teeth, just before he gets a sleepy smile.

"Maybe."

"You pull shit like that on the wrong guy and you'll end up a footnote."

Jensen's just staring at him. Not moving, not looking away. Not showing anything.

And then the kid leans forward and kisses him.

It's open-mouthed and hard. Dave jerks his head away, brushing a hand across his lips. "What the fuck?"

"Maybe I just think you're cute when you're off balance." Jensen leans in and kisses him again and Dave- well. He's startled.

He stands there frozen and Jensen takes it as a sign for more apparently, because there are fingers at his belt and just that fast his pants are unzipped and Jensen is on his knees, one hand working into Dave's shorts while the other slides up under his t-shirt.

Dave's knees buckle and Jensen's arms tense up, holding him in place.

"What-"

Jensen takes him in his mouth. All of him, soft still, because he really wasn't expecting this and Dave has to brace himself against the wall. He's looking down at Jensen who's looking up at him with a knowing glint in his eyes.

One hand is still rubbing circles along his stomach but the other has gotten his pants tugged down to his knees, and now there are light fingertip brushes on his balls. Jensen's mouth is hot and unrelenting and Dave closes his eyes as he gets hard.

Jensen keeps sucking, taking him all the way in, and Dave is impressed because he knows he's got no reason to be modest. Jensen gets bolder, rolling Dave's balls in the palm of his hand as he deep throats him and Dave lets out a guttural moan. It feels fucking good and he's never been the kind of guy to turn away free head, but this right here is pretty much asking for trouble.

He manages to thread his fingers into Jensen's hair and pull a little bit, panting more than making words, "Wait. Stop. You can't-"

Jensen pulls off and as if on cue, the door bangs open.

Stupidly, he cups his cock in both hands as he looks back over his shoulder. As if whoever just walked in couldn't guess what's going on.

Jensen starts laughing.

"Goddamn. I was wondering what the hell was taking you two so long."

Dave lets out a breath. It's fucking Kane. He keeps his eyes trained on the wall in front of him as he says, "Close the fucking door on your way out."

Dave hears the door slam shut again and the click of the lock being thrown. "Oh, I don’t think I'm gonna leave just yet." There are footsteps and then Chris' hand slides down his back.

He realizes that he's sweaty. A wash of relief rolls through him. Anyone else had walked through that door and…

Chris is squeezing his ass and Dave can feel breath on his shoulder. "Now this here is a pretty sight. Y'all are getting along like I knew you would."

Jensen is looking up at Chris and Dave reaches down to pull up his jeans. Before he can get them all the way up, Chris is stopping him with a firm hand and a gentle bite on his arm.

Jensen's eyes flick to Dave's for a second before he closes them and swallows his dick again.

Jesus God but his tongue. His tongue. It's wicked for more than one reason.

Dave's hips jerk forward and Chris is digging fingers into his skin, holding him still.

Kane's sinking to his knees and Dave watches him watch the kid. Kane reaches out and strokes Jensen's face and Dave can feel it when Kane digs a thumb into the hinge of Jensen's jaw. It makes Jensen moan again and Dave's knees buckle.

Kane says, "Yeah. That's fucking perfect."

Dave has to agree.

Jensen's hollowing his cheeks, sucking like nothing he's ever felt and Dave's eyes roll back. Hot mouth. Tongue. Hands. There are four on him. Chris slides back and there's a bite on his cheek, stroking, petting. Then hot breath again and he shivers. Clenches his teeth and tries not to come when he feels slick fingers at his hole.

Slick fingers.

And that's when he knows. That's when he figures out that this was a set-up of the highest fucking order. Because Christian Kane does not walk around with fucking lube and condoms.

Kane never has that shit on him.

They've argued about it more than once, Dave sounding like a Boy Scout even to himself. But every time, Kane would just laugh that laugh of his and shrug as he dropped to his knees.

Dave wants to say something here. He wants to call bullshit on Kane and he wants to especially make it clear to Jensen that it's absolutely not okay to pull this kind of shit on him.

But then Chris is circling, pushing at his hole and it's crowding almost everything else out. Almost everything, because Jensen scrapes teeth over the head of his cock and Dave can't ignore how agonizingly wonderful that feels.

Maybe later. Maybe later he'll tell them in no uncertain terms that he doesn't like… getting surprise blowjobs.

Yeah, or maybe he won't because Jesus. Jensen is taking him all the way in and it's crippling him.

Kane's got a bruising grip on his legs, urging him to spread his feet apart and his heart is knocking in his chest. He's already too close. He can't open his eyes because if he sees it, it'll be too much. Seeing it and feeling it and knowing it, all at the same time and he can't. He's not gonna be the first one to come.

He makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. Pounds a fist against the wall. "Fuck."

Jensen pulls off and stands up slowly, taking Dave's cock in his hand, stripping it hard and tight. "I want to fuck you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I wanna get inside you." Jensen's kissing him again and Dave tastes himself. He pulls back to assess Jensen's equipment and he's a little shocked that the kid's still zipped. Hard-on straining at his fly, he hasn't touched himself yet.

Dave wraps one hand around the kid's neck and tangles the other in the kid's shirt, slamming him against the wall. Leaning in, he bites at Jensen's neck, whispering, "I don't think so." He licks over the mark his teeth leave, "I think you look much prettier on your knees."

Jensen falters in the steady rhthym he's got going on Dave's cock, and it makes Dave smile. He's already on the edge himself, but knowing he can get to the kid so fast makes him feel like he can last out a little longer.

"It's not a negotiation. You want me—" Jensen's eyes spark when he pulls back to stare, clear and steady, "—that's how it works."

Jensen's fist tightens as Chris' fingers thrust deeper and all Dave can do is shudder. He's not really listening anymore, but he lets his head fall onto Jensen's shoulder and hard fingers comb through his hair. He nods. "Okay."

"Okay." Jensen leans in and kisses him again, and this time Dave lets him in. The hand in his hair slides around to cradle his jaw, turning his face at an angle.

He thinks: _the tongue is a muscle_.

Jensen's is hard. Pushing. Insistent.

Opinionated little fucker, even in a kiss.

Jensen pulls away, saying, "Chris man, gimme the stuff."

Dave looks down at Kane, who's got a smile like he just won the lottery, and cusses under his breath, "You enjoying the show, you fucking Judas?"

Kane just grins that fucking grin as he stands up and says, "You know it. And it's about to get even better." He looks over at Jensen, who's fucking with the condom, and they share a look that makes Dave shiver.

He leans in and kisses Kane hard. Fierce.

There's nothing fragile here. Nothing gentle.

Not even any giving, really. With Kane it's always been about the taking, and that's exactly what Dave likes about it.

It's why he's gonna let this happen.

If Kane orchestrated this, if he thinks Dave's going to like this, then he trusts him. Kane knows him pretty well.

"Brace your hands on the wall."

Dave breaks the kiss to look over his shoulder. Jensen's standing there, pants around his ankles, and he's stroking his dick, long and slow. Dave eyes it.

Yeah, he's gonna like this.

When he turns back around, obeying the kid's order, he's a little surprised to see how lust-fucked Kane looks. His eyes are bleary and his mouth his slack.

"You getting off on this?"

Kane doesn't respond for a second. He doesn't even blink as he stares at Dave. And then he laughs. "Fuck. You look good right now."

Dave rests his hands on the wall on either side of Kane's head and leans in, brushing their lips together before biting gently. "You oughta know."

Kane's fisting his own cock, slow and deliberate, with his eyes trained over Dave's shoulder.

Jensen coughs and rubs a hand down Dave's spine. "You ready?"

"The door's locked?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Dave keeps his eyes open as he feels Jensen's cock rubbing in the cleft of his ass. Kane reaches out a hand, jacking Dave's cock in a loose fist. Dave sucks in a breath.

There's a burn in the stretch even though Kane did a good job opening him up. It's been a little too long since Dave's done this, and he can feel it.

He can feel the long, slow slide as Jensen fills him up. He leans into Chris, open mouth panting into his neck as he lets himself feel it. When Jensen's all the way in he stops.

"You alright?"

"Yeah. Just do it. Fuck me."

Jensen laughs and smacks his ass. "Yes sir."

And then finally, mercifully, the kid gets down to it. Thrusting into him without care. Pounding him into Kane, who absorbs it all. Watches it all.

He's on the pin-sharp turn. So close, with Kane lazily stroking him and mouthing at his neck, whispering curses and prayers into his skin. With Jensen's hands hard on his hips, holding him down as he fucks in harder, out of sync with the hand on his dick and it's maddening. Just a little more will get him there, and he's straining after it, chasing it.

"Kane, you fucker, go faster. Harder." Dave's braced on the wall, bracketing Chris, and his hands slip on every thrust. He's sweating and panting and Jesus the fuck Christ, but the kid knows what he's doing. He's angling higher and his fingers are digging in hard, trying to find the spot to make it good.

Dave has a fleeting thought about how's he's gonna explain those bruises later, but it's cut short by pounding on the bathroom door.

Kane swears, "Shit."

"Hey! "You gotta open up, I gotta take a piss." The voice is muffled, but clearly irate.

Jensen just grunts and fucks harder.

Hey, you can't lock this door."

Jensen hits his prostate on the next thrust and Dave shouts, "Fuck."

The pounding gets louder. Kane's stripping his cock hard and fast now and Dave shuts his eyes, grits his teeth.

"This is a public establishment. What the fuck is going on in there?"

Dave's so fucking close. He reaches back with one hand, trying to keep the kid in place. "Fuck, yes. Right fucking there. Don't stop."

"Fucking drug addicts! I'm calling the cops if you don't open the fucking door."

Jensen tightens his grip on Dave's hips as he shoves in harder, Kane's chanting low, "Yes. Fuck. Come on. Come on," and Dave loses it.

He whacks his knuckles on the paper towel dispenser when he comes. Kane wraps sweaty arms around him, holding on tight through the locked-up shaking as he shudders through it.

And it's Kane who pulls it together enough to shout, "Hold your horses old man. Be out in a sec."

There's one more thump on the door that rattles the wall and then the sound of footsteps stomping away.

Jensen lets out a hoarse yell, a couple of erratic thrusts more and he stutters to a stop, letting all of his weight fall on Dave's back with an almighty groan.

Dave is the first to start laughing. Soon they're all laughing, though, because fuck it. The cops are on their way.

Jensen pulls out with a hiss and Dave straightens up slowly. Every muscle is rubber.

He hadn't been paying attention to Kane, but from the looks of him, he did all right. The boy's no martyr.

Dave hitches his pants up with a sigh and rubs at the knuckles that're still smarting. The kid lights a cigarette and Kane steals it from him, taking in a lungful before handing it back.

Dave shuffles over to the sink to clean up as best he can. He runs the water cold, splashes some on his face, drying off with his shirttail, and turns to watch them pass the cigarette back and forth as they rearrange their clothes.

It's bordering on awkwardly silent when Kane finally says, "What're you doing later? Ackles and me are going to my house, gonna work on a Chevy. Cherry 1972 pickup. You down?"

Dave watches the kid stub out the cigarette and fuck with his hair in the mirror. "Longbed?"

"Short." he coughs, turning around and leaning on the sink, "Stepside K10."

"Nice."

Kane elbows his way to the mirror, "We're rebuilding the front end. Dropping a 454 big block in there."

Dave gives him his impressed face.

The kid looks at the floor. "It's just a kit."

Kane smiles at Dave with a raised eyebrow. "It's gonna be a present. Isn't that right, Smeckles?"

"Shut the fuck up." Jensen slugs him in the arm and they head to the door.

Kane turns back as he flicks the lock. "You coming, man?"

Dave has a flash of Holly Symanski clutching red silk to her chest in a hotel room on prom night. All raccoon eyes and tight-lipped as he lets the door shut, joining the party in the hall; some guy handing him a Bud Light.

He shakes his head. "Nah." He checks his watch. "me and Jaime are taking the runt to Gymboree."

"Alright. Call me on Tuesday, we'll hit the range."

"Yeah."

Dave gives them a head start out the door. It goes without saying that they can't all leave together. While he waits he reads the graffiti and wonders why people feel the need to correct each other's grammar on the bathroom walls.

*

When he gets back to the table Abe Vigoda's twin slides off his stool and totters over to him.

Dave groans inwardly.

"Excuse me, aren't you on the television?"

Reflexively, Dave looks up to check. It's still _Barney Miller_.

"Uh. Yeah. Yes, I am. I'm David Boreanaz."

The old man lights up like he's on _Jeopardy_ or something. "Ah! I knew it! I saw you come in with your friends and I thought, gee, he looks familiar. You're on that cop show, aren't you?"

Dave nods, infinitely patient.

Abe Vigoda claps his hands like a delighted two year old. "My wife, Marge, she watches you every week. You solve crimes with that nice young lady… what's her name?"

"Well, actually, it's not really a cop show per se—'

"Oh she'll be so pleased when I tell her I met you. Would you mind-" The old man pats his pockets and looks around.

Dave smiles tightly and says, "Sure. You want an autograph?"

The old man nods. Dave fishes in his back pocket and comes up with a receipt from the In-N-Out. He holds it up with a questioning look. "Sorry, this is all I have. Do you think she'll mind?"

The guy shakes his head and bends over Dave as Dave bends over the table to scribble: "Dear. Marge. Thanks. For watching. All the best. David."

He stands back up and hands over the receipt and the old guy clasps it tight. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Boreanaz. Thank you so much! God bless you!'"

He does the starstruck-backwards-shuffle-head-bob thing as he walks away and Dave feels a pang.

"You take care, now."

His sunglasses and keys are still on the table, along with three tall glasses of beer. He tosses a couple of bills down before grabbing his stuff and stepping out of the bar and into the sunlight.


End file.
